The Healing Wars: Book III: Darkfall (29 page)

The docks were in flames, but the fires had been stopped before they’d spread to the tradesmen’s corner. Most of the production district smoldered, some fires still burning, but the fire crews had put out most of them. One of the Aristocrats’ Isles was nothing but cinders.

“No loss,” said one of the soldiers recovering from healing. “It was all Baseeri living there anyway. We’ll rebuild it for Gevegians.”

I held my tongue and kept healing. Gevegians had built those villas. Nothing Baseeri burned there—just all that was left of the families they’d already destroyed.

Another night fell. The sounds of metal clashing subsided, and campfires blazed in the east end of Geveg—the isles held solidly by the Duke. More fires burned in the west end, but no people sat around those. They were the last of the dock buildings finally succumbing.

“One more in bed six,” Lanelle said as we passed each other. “I’m going to dump my pain and grab some food.”

“I’ll get them.”

The soldier in bed six smiled. Ellis.

I smiled back and took her hands. “Good to see you, even if it is here.”

“Better here than not at all.”

“True.” Someone had started a list of the dead in the main antechamber, but I hadn’t looked to see who was on it. I had no time to grieve. I put a hand on Ellis’s forehead and felt my way in, sensing the same cuts, the piercings, the bruises I’d been healing for days. I
drew
them all away.

Ellis sighed. “Thanks.”

“How’s it going out there?”

“Been hard, but we’re not letting them through. Jeatar is amazing. He won’t let us lose hope, keeps us focused and fighting, even laughing once in a while. Those sinkers made a big difference.”

I winced.

She patted my hand. “We’d be dead now if you hadn’t suggested those things. They cut the Duke’s forces in half, gave us time to put out fires. They forced him to dock where we were the most prepared. Now that he’s on the ground, he’s being cautious instead of smashing through us. If we win, it’ll be because of that.”

If we win. She thought there was a chance, same as Aylin.

“Is Jeatar okay?”

Ellis nodded. “He’s been hurt a few times, but nothing the battlefield Healer can’t handle.”

“Vyand taking good care of him?”

“Extremely. I don’t even want to skewer her anymore.”

I smiled. “I guess that’s good. Tell him and the others I said good luck.”

“I will.”

I hugged her and left, carrying her pain back to the Slab. I offered my hands to the apprentice and she sniffed back tears. I’d lost count of how many times she’d taken my pain.

“This’ll probably be the last time tonight,” I said, just as glad as she probably was about that.

“They won’t attack tonight?”

“Not until dawn. They’re probably tired.” Though they had more soldiers, so they could be pretending to cease attacks, waiting for us to let down our tired guard. Then they’d send more troops, fresh from a day of rest.

“Okay,” she said, taking my hand.

My hands and fingers tingled, aching in a way I’d never felt before. Had Tali ever felt this? Was this normal after healing all day? If so, she’d been tougher than I’d thought.

Is tougher—she’s not gone. There’s still hope for her.

“There’s food in the dining hall,” I said, voice cracking. I cleared my throat. “Get some food and some sleep.”

She nodded and left without another word, feet shuffling across the floor.

Twelve was too young to go to war.

I followed her to the dining hall and filled a bowl with fishcakes. Aylin and Danello were sitting at one of the long tables. Tables Tali used to eat at. Laugh at. Live at. Just like Mama and Grannyma. I turned away. I couldn’t eat in there, not tonight. Maybe not ever. I ran.

Footsteps echoed in the hall behind me.

“Nya, wait!” Danello called. I stopped. He and Aylin caught up. “You okay?”

“No,” I said. “I just … I need someplace else.”

They looked at each other, understanding in their eyes; then Danello looked back. “Sunroom. No one will be up there right now. Let me get our bowls.”

I nodded, clutching my own bowl.

Moist air and darkness greeted us as we stepped into the sunroom. Someone had left the balcony doors open and a breeze blew in. The lamps were off and we left them dark.

We sat on soft couches and ate in silence. Kept sitting long after we finished our fish and set the bowls down.

Outside, Geveg was equally dark—save for the fires and lights of the Duke’s army. It angered me, that boldness. Like he had no fear of us and could shout his location so clearly. We had to hide in darkness, mask our presence.

“I want him dead.”

Aylin looked up. “The Duke?”

“Yes. I just wanted him gone before, but now I want him dead.”

Danello nodded. “Me too.”

Aylin paused, then sighed. “So do I.”

Wood cracked, then something banged—wood against stone. Sounds we’d heard for two days, but this was closer. Much closer.

WHOOMP!

Water splashed, a man screamed. Just one.

“That didn’t sound right,” Danello said. He rose and went out on the balcony, peering into the darkness covering Half Moon Bay.

WHOOMP!

Again, just a single frightened voice screamed.

“How many sinkers are in the bay?” Danello asked.

“Six,” I said. “Three at the front and three close to the League.”

WHOOMP!

“That was the third front one then.” Danello frowned. “He’s not sending in fireboats or we’d see the flames.”

My guts twisted. “One boat—one captain. He’s looking for sinkers and triggering them.”

The moon slid out from behind the clouds. Blacker-than-black shapes hovered at the edge of Half Moon Bay. A transport ship. Smaller boats sailed ahead of them. Six were already sinking.

“Saints, he’s clearing a path,” Danello said, gripping the balcony rail.

“No, he’s
cleared
it.” I pointed to the ships closest to the League. “We heard the
last
three sinkers flash, not the first three.”

He sacrificed all those lives just to get to us.

“I’ll alert the perimeter captain,” said Danello. “We’ll need reinforcements.”

“How many soldiers does a transport carry?” Aylin asked.

“Maybe five or six hundred?”

“We can’t let them get to the League,” she said. “The guard is what? Half that?”

“Yeah.”

We had to slow them down, keep them back. Give our reinforcements time to get here. The Duke couldn’t be sure he’d triggered all the sinkers, so he’d be cautious. That gave us some time, but not much.

“Maybe Onderaan had some pynvium weapons that haven’t gone out yet,” Aylin said.

We ran to the forge. The fires still burned, but I didn’t see any pynvium in the ore bins.

“Onderaan!” I shouted over the roar of the flames.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re under attack. The Duke’s cleared a path through the bay sinkers and is about to land a transport ship on the League docks. Do we have any sinkers left? Or anything we can use against them?”

He shook his head. “Just you.”

I groaned and scanned the foundry. “There has to be something. Scraps I can throw or—”

The barrels of pynvium sand. Six of them along the wall.

“Is there pain in there?”

“I don’t know. We never checked. The sand is just a by-product of the smelting process.”

I turned to Aylin. “Get me a Healer, fast.”

“Got it.” Aylin raced off.

Each grain might be small, but together that was a
lot
of pynvium. Would it be enough? I had the details worked out by the time Aylin returned with Lanelle.

“The sand in those barrels.” I pointed. “Tell me if there’s pain in there.”

She went over and stuck her hand into each barrel. “What I can feel has pain, but there’s no way to tell if every single grain has it.”

Good enough.

“I need sacks. And people to carry them. And a way to get these barrels to the rear courtyard.”

Onderaan gaped at me, then understanding lit his eyes.

“That’s—”

“I know, but it’s all we have.”

“You’ll need a trigger,” Onderaan said. “Something large enough to start the chain flashing.”

“But there’s no pynvium left,” Lanelle said.

“Wait!” Onderaan cried. “The cylinder.” He hurried to the metal box and pulled it out. The quivering started again in my stomach. “Would this work? It’s made of pynvium.”

“
And
kragstun,” I added. “We have no idea if it’ll even hold pain. Or what it’ll do if we try to fill it, let alone flash it.”

“Do we have a choice?” Aylin asked. “There’s nothing else we can use to trigger the flash.”

Nor time to find an alternative.

Onderaan handed the cylinder to Lanelle. “What do you sense?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s empty. And there’s no one in the ward at the moment, so there’s no pain.”

Aylin huffed and lifted her shirt, exposing her stomach. “Nya, stab me.”

“No!”

“Don’t be stupid. We need pain. We have enough between us to fill the cylinder. Lanelle can heal us right away.”

No one moved. Lanelle smiled. She’d probably imagine stabbing Aylin at least once before.

“Don’t make me do it myself,” Aylin said. “You know I have terrible aim.”

I shook my head. “There has to be another way.”

“
Stab
me,” Aylin said, slapping her stomach.

“Let me be the one.” Onderaan pulled off his leather smelting jacket. “There’s nothing left to forge, so it won’t matter if I’m a little weak for a few hours. You’ll need Aylin and you’ll need your full strength.”

“Onderaan, I can’t—”

“Yes, Nya, you can.” He smiled. “Analov blood has already been spilled to protect this city. What’s a little more?”

Was this really any different from the folks fighting out there now? We were already fighting the Duke with our own blood, our own pain.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He nodded. “It’s the only way.”

I drew my knife. If we were going to use my family’s blood, then family should be the one to spill it.

The League guard was gathering in the courtyard when we rolled the first of the barrels out. Two dozen of those who’d evacuated to the League volunteered to help, with more offering to fight if they had to. Grandmothers and grandfathers, iron in their hearts and wills, even if their bodies were weak.

Children ran back and forth, filling bags of sand and taking them to those spreading it out in the courtyard.

“What can I do?” Danello asked, breathless. He’d sent messengers to both Jeatar and Balju, but who knew if they’d reach them in time. Or if they had any troops to spare to help us. If the Duke was sneaking up on the League, he might also send troops to distract our main forces.

After all, it’s what we’d done to them.

“Make sure no one in the guard has any pain-filled pynvium on them. We can’t risk them getting caught in the flashes.”

The guards were well back from the lakewall, our secondary defense in case the sand didn’t work. I tensed, even though the ship hadn’t reached us yet. It was getting closer, the black shape creaking, gentle splashes of oars through water. They maneuvered without sails, quiet as a sigh.

We were just as quiet. Clouds blocked the half-moon, and the courtyard was dark, far enough back from the docks, with hibiscus hedges along the lakeside. There was a good chance those on the ship couldn’t see us moving or spreading the sand.

We stood shoulder to shoulder across the courtyard, throwing out handfuls of sand, the ground gritty under our feet. When the sand ran out, we paused and stared into the darkness.

“Will it be enough?” Lanelle asked.

“I hope so.”

Aylin turned to me. “Where do you want us?”

I pulled out a small horn. “I need one person at the far end of the courtyard to signal when all the soldiers are in the sand.”

“I’ll do it,” Aylin grabbed the horn as Danello reached for it. “They’ll need you if we have to fight,” she said.

“You’ll be caught in the flash,” I said.

She nodded. “I know. Just come and get me when it’s over.”

I hugged her. “I will. Be careful and stay hidden.”

“That’s my plan.” She dashed off, disappearing into the darkness.

“I guess that’s it,” I said, my stomach in knots.

“Yeah.”

I looked at Danello, his features just shadows. “You should get back with the guards.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Shadows moved, and warm lips brushed mine. I tugged him closer, not wanting to let go. He pulled away. “We fight together.”

“Together.”

We hid behind a hastily erected barricade fifteen feet from the edge of the sand. I’d have preferred stone. Wooden desks and chairs wouldn’t protect Danello if the flash blew back toward us. The hundreds of League guards behind us also crouched low, some on their bellies, avoiding notice until the last possible second.

The transport ship reached the lakewall. I couldn’t make out details, but its sheer size blacked out everything behind it. Metal rattled, faster and faster until a splash. The anchor? Wood banged against stone, then another just like it, then a third. Then footsteps. Lots of footsteps thunking on wood.

“Gangplank,” Danello whispered. “They’re unloading now.”

I gripped the cylinder tighter, my stomach quivering, my skin itching.

Steps, movement, breathing. The gritty shuffling of soldiers walking through pynvium sand. They had to be close. I peered through holes in the barrier. Dark shapes focused, neat lines of soldiers so tight you couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began. Hundreds of them filled the courtyard and dock area behind the League.

A horn blew. Aylin.

Startled cries rippled through the soldiers. I pictured dandelions scattering in the wind, pushing them as far and as fast as I could, and heaved the cylinder over the barrier.

Trigger every last grain of sand, you stupid flash.

WHOOMP!

Pain washed over me, sharp, prickling.
Too close!
Danello grunted and collapsed.

Whoomp, whoomp-whoomp! Whoomp…

Sparks flashed like blue fireflies dancing in the night. They floated on the wind, shimmering and casting a blue hue on the water. Light reflected off armor and windows, off broken glass scattered on the ground. Pynvium sand glittered as it fell, bursting with blue.